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Seven
She still could not believe she had agreed to marry him. It was a good decision even if she felt as if she’d crumble at the slightest provocation. Her baby deserved to be born inside the bonds of matrimony. The child was innocent of any wrongdoing. If anyone should pay a price it should be her, or Matthew. It didn’t matter that he never said he loved her. He claimed to want her and that would have to be enough.
If she wasn’t already carrying his child, she might have held out for more. She didn’t have the luxury to wait for love. Perhaps over time, after they were married, he would come to love her. Fool that she was she already loved him. Francesca had since they first met. Something had snapped into place when she met him, and it had stayed with her.
He hadn’t said when the wedding would take place or where. She should go to see him and discuss it, but she couldn’t find the motivation to do so. It was as if once she did it would become more of a reality. Francesca was taking the cowardly way and waiting for him to come to her or contact her in some fashion.
“Lady Francesca,” the butler said. “This just arrived for you.”
He held a bouquet of flowers—a mix of wisteria and violets. They were beautiful and extravagant. They had to be from Matthew. Francesca hadn’t even tried to connect with any of the gentleman from her ball. Her only regret was that she’d never danced with Matthew. She should have insisted he signed her card, but she’d been too shocked by his proposal. He hadn’t seemed inclined to offer for her when she’d told him about her condition, and in the park, he’d been too consumed with his former love’s presence.
“Can you set them on the table for me?” she said.
“Of course,” the butler agreed. He set the blooms on the table and then turned to her. “This came with them.” It was a missive. “There was no card.” He handed it to her, and then left her alone.
She tore open the missive.
My dearest Cesca,
Apologies are not enough,and I only pray in our lifetime I can make things right with you. These flowers remind me of the color of your eyes in the midst of passion, they’re not merely blue, but is mixed with all the shades of purple…much like a tempest about to explode upon the earth. You stormed into my heart and broke through the wall I had erected.
Our joining should happen as soon as possible. Please call upon me this afternoon. I’ve made all the arrangements, and afterward, we can tell your parents together. I do not want to wait to say my vows.
I’m yours,always.
Matthew
She folded the letter and tucked it away. Francesca did not need anyone to stumble upon it accidentally before she’d married Matthew. He was right of course. They should not wait to say their vows. Their child depended upon both of them to do the right thing.
That didn’t mean she wasn’t sad. Francesca had dreamed of her wedding day and had hoped that when she said her vows they would be filled with love. The love was there, but it was also mixed with sadness and disappointment. She could not look upon her wedding day as one with joy, and it would always be one founded in necessity.
She had an hour to prepare for her wedding. Should she contact Violet or iris? Shouldn’t she have someone she cared about there to act as witness? Resigned she went to her bedchamber and penned a quick note, then went to have the butler deliver it. She couldn’t have both Iris and Violet there, and she didn’t know if they were available. She asked that one of them attend her and gave them the time and place to meet her there.
Francesca didn’t change her gown. She had no special dress for her wedding day and didn’t care to change into one of her fancier ball gowns. Besides she would need her maid’s help to change, and she didn’t want to alert anyone in the household of her plans. She needed the wedding to be finished first. Her parents wouldn’t want her to marry without love even though she carried Matthew’s child. They would want to her to consider her own happiness, but Francesca couldn’t be that selfish.
She took a deep breath and then slipped out of the house. As much as she might like to stall the inevitable, she couldn’t. Francesca would arrive earlier than Matthew expected her, but she couldn’t wait any longer. Perhaps the wedding could begin early, with or without one of her friends there. She just wanted it to be over with.
The walk to Matthew’s townhouse didn’t take too long. It was quicker than the first time because she didn’t have to stick to the shadows. She strolled up to his door in broad daylight and rapped the knocker against the door as if she belonged there. Soon she would as it would be her house too.
This time Matthew didn’t open the door. An elderly man with snow white hair and soft blue eyes stood on the other side. He was probably Matthew’s butler. “Yes?” he lifted a brow.
“I am Lady Francesca Kendall. The duke is expecting me.” She hoped that Matthew had the foresight to enlighten his servants of her arrival.
“Ah, yes,” he said and smiled. “Please follow me.”
She entered the townhouse for the last time as an unmarried woman. When she left again, she would be Matthew’s wife, and she would have to inform her parent’s she married without informing them of her intentions. She hoped they would understand.
The butler led her to the same sitting room she’d informed Matthew of his impending fatherhood. It was different this time. It had been filled with the same wisteria and violets her bouquet had been created with. Matthew was on the far side of the room speaking with a vicar. This was real. It was happening, and suddenly the room started to spin. She was going to faint and there was nothing to stop her, and no one to catch her fall. Somehow that seemed apt…
Matthew glancedover to the entrance of the sitting room as the butler led Cesca inside. He tried to meet her gaze, but she wouldn’t look at him She kept staring at the flowers, and then she swayed. He rushed over to her side and barely caught her before she hit the floor.
She moaned and curled against him. “Cesca, love,” he said in a soothing tone. “Open your eyes for me.”
Her eyelids fluttered open, but she still seemed a little dazed. “Where am I?”
He titled his lips into a smile. “In my arms where you belong.” Matthew brushed a stray lock of her strawberry blonde hair to the side. “Do you think you can stand without swooning at the sight of me again?”
She glowered. “I didnotfall at your feet.”
